Maybe the number of Angels would be as few as zero.
Maybe that was why Julian had heard the spaceship. If not wishful thinking, then maybe it was wishful hearing. But Julian couldn’t shake the thought. What if it was a spaceship? There were two left — Perseus and Orion, both locked away in Bunker Six. There was no way anyone besides the New Angels could access it. Bunker Six was not too far north of Bunker One, and was even deeper in the Great Blight, making it more inaccessible than the former headquarters of the United States government. There was no way either of those ships could be flying around. There was no one on Earth that could pilot them besides Makara, Ashton, and Anna.
Again, Julian’s thoughts turned back to Alex. If he was really dead, they had to find another solution. That meant talking to the Wanderer. But how, without having the speed of a spaceship?
No one had explicitly said that all hope was gone in the two days since the crash. Samuel had merely ordered everyone to head back to Bunker 84. Julian was sure, however, that he wasn’t the only one being haunted by these thoughts.
The only solution that Julian could see was for the Wanderer to select a new person to fill Alex’s role. But maybe that wasn’t possible. After all, hadn’t the Wanderer prophesied that Alex was the only one who could defeat the Radaskim?
In the passenger seat, Samuel adjusted his legs.
“Still awake, Julian?”
Julian nodded. “Yeah.”
“I’m stepping outside.”
Makara stirred as the door opened, but didn’t wake. Michael opened a single eye, then fell right back asleep.
Julian opened his own door, stepping onto the padded xenofungal surface of the Great Blight. The air was warm and moist — both water and heat rose from the organic growth below. A gentle wind blew, warm. It seemed strange that the Great Blight, the most dangerous place in the world, had the mildest weather.
A few steps ahead, Samuel swept hanging tree limbs out of the way, revealing an incline of a few feet, ending at a high precipice. Blighted plains stretched below. At the end of the plains, about three miles distant, rose glowing, jagged mountains. They reminded Julian of teeth; the broken, rotting teeth, of a broken, rotting world.
Samuel went to stand at the edge of the cliff, and Julian stood a short distance to the side. Above, the skies had somewhat cleared, a rare occurrence in the Great Blight. A small window to the heavens had opened, a black void filled with a swath of bright, shining stars. A purplish band of light streaked across the small opening in the clouds.
“The Milky Way,” Julian said, stepping up beside Samuel. “We’d see it at night, in New America. Here, not so much. Too cloudy.”
Samuel gazed upward, saying nothing. Julian scanned the valley below. According to the Recon’s navigation, there should have been a highway down there, running east and west. There was no sign of it, now. First, buried by years of dust. Next, buried by the xenoviral incursion. Likely, it was buried forever, just as all the Old World would one day be.
“Even if we make it in time,” Julian said, “will it make any difference?”
Staring out at the alien landscape, Samuel took time before he answered, as if weighing the unexpressed feelings behind the question itself.
“You never know. You should never give up hope as long as you’re breathing. You never know if salvation is beyond the next rise.”
Julian was about to respond, but found he had no words.
They stood another moment before Julian spoke again.
“What about Alex, though?” Julian asked. “The Wanderer said…”
“Alex cannot be dead,” Samuel said.
Julian’s eyes widened. “How do you know that?”
“It all depends on the interpretation of the Wanderer’s prophecy,” Samuel said. “The Wanderer said that Alex had to be there for the final battle. Therefore, he has to be there. I refuse to believe that he is dead.”
Julian didn’t know how to respond. Samuel’s belief was not based on logic — a rarity for someone so rational. Then again, his reason did have a certain logic to it. As Samuel said, it all depended on the interpretation.
“They have their course,” Samuel said. “We have ours.”
Something about Samuel’s words struck Julian.
“Wait. Their course?”
“If they made it…as I believe they have…then they are doing what they have to do. They must have made peace with the fact that they’ll never see civilization again.” Samuel turned to Julian. “Ragnarok Crater isn’t too far from the crash site. Maybe two hundred miles. It can be done.”
That gave Julian pause. Could they really be trying to walk to Ragnarok Crater? To travel through the mountains and the Great Blight, without food and water, seemed impossible. Then again, maybe not. If Alex was alive, he could summon his dragon friend and be rescued. If that was the case, Alex would have found them by now. It had been three days, after all, and no sign of any dragon — Elekai or Radaskim.
“I choose to believe because I cannot accept the alternative,” Samuel said. “If Alex is dead, then there is nothing more we can do. But until we see it with our own eyes…we fight.”
The two friends gazed into the silent valley. Julian could only wonder where Samuel found his hope. Perhaps he was still young enough to have it. Not that Julian was much older than Samuel’s twenty-three.
Twenty-five years I’ve lived, Julian thought. Would two more years make such a difference in my outlook on life?
Maybe hope was a choice. Julian wondered what it would be like to believe Alex was alive. That Anna and Ashton were both alive.
And suddenly, he realized that what he heard earlier made sense. It wasn’t just a dream.
“I did hear a spaceship.”
Samuel turned, raising an eyebrow. “You’re sure?”
“At least, I think I did,” Julian said.
“Who would fly it?” Samuel asked. “If there was one, it came from Bunker Six.”
“And yet, you guys made it as far as Bunker One.” Julian looked at Samuel. “It’s not impossible, is it?”
“Yes, but what would that mean?” Samuel asked. “Who would be flying it?”
“I don’t know,” Julian said. “But if someone had a spaceship, where would they go?”
“Skyhome, perhaps.”
As if he had received some sort of answer, Samuel turned back for the Recon.
“Where are you going?” Julian asked.
“Makara can try contacting Skyhome,” Samuel said. “It’ll mean waiting until it’s overhead, but Skyhome can track the spaceship for us. If it exists, that is.”
Julian nodded. It seemed like a long shot. It would mean watching the night sky nonstop until they saw Skyhome streaking across, like a massively bright star. They could send out a message every few minutes. Hopefully, someone from Skyhome would answer.
If there was another spaceship, it would change everything. They could track it down and find out who was flying it. Maybe that ship had rescued Alex and the others — the escape pod would have given off a signal that could be tracked by any ship in the U.S. Space Fleet.
But if that was the case, would that ship have found the others? And if so, where were they going?
Chapter 2